


Kissing in the Rain

by Rumo (Triteia)



Series: Clintasha One-Shots [3]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Kissing in the Rain, Master Assassins, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 19:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15541608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triteia/pseuds/Rumo
Summary: Three times, Natasha and Clint kissed in the rain and one time they almost didn’t





	Kissing in the Rain

Three times, Natasha and Clint kissed in the rain and one time they almost didn’t.

 

He hated the rain. Always had. It reminded him of past days in the circus, the night his Brother betrayed him and endless nights waiting for a hit, somewhere in the shadows on a faraway rooftop.

Today, he hated the rain especially. He was running over the Rooftops of Nice on full speed. The water had already found its way through all his clothes, leaving him soaked. Of course, the tiles got even more slippery the longer he ran, and dress shoes had zero to no none grip.

There he was, clad in an expensive suit that the R&D Department wouldn't get back in wearable shape. The stiff shirt fabric clung to his body like a very uncomfortable second skin and half of his formerly white button down was tainted red from a shoulder wound.

Behind him was an Armada of thugs, guns blazing and hot on his heels. The Archer could only hope to reach the rendezvous point before he got any more additional holes.

Three houses down, he could already see the red dress of his partner. She had taken another route and was running in his direction, guns in hand. He could feel the bullets wheeze past him and shouts of pain told him the lines of his pursuers were thinning.

God he loved her.

How she looked, standing there barefoot in her red ballgown, guns blazing and ready to take down an entire army. The rain only accented the perfect fit of her dress and made her look like an avenging angel, ready to swoop down and save him.

He was only a few feet away, still going at full speed. Once he reached her, Clint picked her up over his shoulder so she could still shoot and never stopped running. They were close to the shore. If he could only make it another two blocks, there would be a save escape through the water.

She took out all of the nearest pursuers but there were more coming a hundred meters away. He saw the edge of the last building, from the map, Clint knew it was directly next to the harbour. Just before they reached the edge, he pulled her down until she was in his arms and kissed her. For a moment, everything stopped. He knew that he was still running, it was still raining and they kept shooting at them. But for a few seconds none of that mattered.

Then, he felt the edge coming and jumped.

 

Natasha was wandering the nightly streets of New York, only few People passed her on her way. She loved the quiet and calmness of a sleeping city. Nobody talked, nobody rushed. Somewhere during the last hour it had started to rain, lightly at first and then stronger. She was sure that she had to be shivering by now but couldn’t get herself to care. The half-empty vodka bottle in her hand numbed everything, leaving her in a soft bubble.

The last mission was a disaster. A whole school got blown to pieces by terrorist and there had been nothing they could have done to stop it. Her partner barely dragged her out before the whole building collapsed.

She wandered for hours until the spy found herself in front of a battered Apartment building in Bed-Stuy. The Fire-escape ladder was always unlocked and after a quick jump, she was able to pull it down. Having climbed the way for a hundred times, Natasha made almost no sound when she pulled herself up onto the roof.

On the opposite side, a lone figure sat in the rain. He didn’t move when she slowly approached the ledge he was sitting on, but she knew that her coming had been registered. They weren’t world’s best assassins for nothing.

Quietly, the red-head sat beside him and let Clint wrap her in his arms. Her partner knew what she needed and shared the silence willingly. After some time, he pulled her in his lap, holding her close. They were each other’s only constants in Life. The only thing that would never vanish.

When she finally raised her head to meet his gaze, Natasha could clearly see the tears between the raindrops. Her own had mixed with the water long ago. The kiss they shared that night was not sweet or careful but fierce and demanding, assuring each other they were still there and alive.

Neither of them knew how long they could count on that.

 

A year after New York, Strike Team Delta was granted their first vacation. For Natasha it had been six years, for her partner even longer. With their accumulated pay checks that never really got used, they could easily afford to rent a whole Island in the Caribbean. Just for them, two Weeks of Freedom. Tony had been so nice to lent them one of his smaller private jets for the travel, sparing them the effort of a disguise.

They arrived early at the dock to pick up their keys and boat under false Names. Just two people saw Natalie Rushman and William Brandt speed out of the harbour on their rented yacht and both belonged to the Hotel.

The Island was beautiful, everything they ever dreamed of and more. Emerald water and white sand under tall palmtrees. When they arrived at their private paradise, a strong tropical rain set in. It was warm and the kind that were common for this time of the year. Instead of taking the little rubber dighy, Clint set anchor in the bay of their villa and together, they jumped into the warm water, laughing and dipping each other under the surface.  

Once their feet found soft sand, Clint picked her up and carried her to the shore bridal style. When he spun her around, dancing in the first real rays of sunshine, he was sure he was never happier than in this moment. Then, she dipped down pulling him into a passionate kiss.  

Somewhere over the Atlantic, Coulson smiled at his tablet. The screen showed a woman in a white summer dress and a man in black dress pants with a white shirt. They were wet and laughing at each other, looking so unbelievably happy.

One day he would have to tell them that he was still alive. Until then, he would keep watch and assure no harm would come to either of them.

 

They had a fight. A bad one. Clint wasn’t sure if he could remember them having one like that before. It all started with a mission when he pulled her out even though she said she could make it. They were to disarm a bomb on the shore of New Jersey and Natasha couldn’t find the control panel in time. She was connected through a line to the boat he was steering so he’d be able to retrieve her. When the time was running out and it was obvious she wouldn’t make it back in time, he pulled her out. Three hikers died from the avalanche caused by the explosions and Natasha sported bruised ribs from the under-water shockwave that hit her halfway to the boat. Clint had to perform cpr on her because she’s stopped breathing by the time he got her out of the water.

Even Fury confirmed he made the right call because there had been nothing she could have done to save them but she was still furious. Not because he saved her but because he acted against her will by pulling her out even though she told him not to. The red-head told him she’d rather have died trying to stop the bomb than give up.

It escalated quickly to a huge fight that left half of the Avengers Tower interior in ruins. They started during their first training session after the mission, Natasha began to fight dirty and Clint had no problem returning the favour. Tony, who tried to separate them, got knocked out immediately and even Steve sported a few bruises afterwards including a huge black eye he acquired by stepping between the two assassins. First, they demolished the training room, then the fight moved to the kitchen, where most of Tony’s plates and glasses fell victim to Natasha who kept throwing them. Clint, who still held the barbell bar he picked up to defend himself, deflected every one of them while they continued to shout at each other.

The havoc came to an abrupt halt when she threw a small kitchen knife that embedded itself in his bicep and stormed out of the door. Tony had just upped his insurance and was on the way to the kitchen when Natasha stormed past him. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of her expression. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw his teammate rip a little kitchen knife out of his arm. If tony didn’t knew better, he’d have sworn to see smoke come out of the other’s ears. He danced around shards of porcelain and glass to get closer to his friend. “Hey buddy, are you O-“ the billionaire started when a barbell bar flew past him through two glass walls and finally got stuck in one of the windows. Followed by two of his designer bar stools that both crossed the whole room before shattering on the wall.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Clint growled and pushed past him in the direction of the training room. Tony looked around the destroyed room with a sigh and called Jarvis to start the repairing process. Then, he went over to the remnants of his bar and poured himself a scotch. He took out another glass when Steve came through the door, icepack over his right eye. They clicked their glasses and decided each of them would try to talk to one of the to solve the mystery of their fight. Bruce called to ask if it was safe to leave the containment cell again. Tony gave him green light and opened another bottle of scotch.

That had been almost five weeks ago. Barton hardly left the training room and range, only coming up to grab something to eat every other day. Romanoff actively avoided meeting him and befriended Steve, who tried to talk to her about the fight but quickly gave up seeing she wouldn’t talk about it.

When Steve and Natasha left for dinner one evening, Tony tried to talk to his friend again. Instead of confronting him again, he dressed in workout clothes and went to the gym to train. Barton was working on the barbells. And tony noticed it was the same one he’d plucked out of his kitchen widow a few weeks back. It took the Ironman armour to get it out but the bar wasn’t damaged besides a few scratches so he returned it to the training room.

The billionaire picked some weights and a bench for himself and started to train. “How was your mission yesterday?” he asked casually, pretending to be interested in small talk.

“Stark, I know what you are trying to do. The mission went as planned. Now cut the crap.” Clint’s voice sounded tired and rough. With a sigh, Tony set the weights aside and faced his teammate who continued his training, changing to squats from the curls he was doing before. Tony noticed bruises on his knuckles and several cuts on odd locations. The scar from the kitchen knife was still visible, standing out against the tan skin.  

“Well, ever since the fight Cap and I are concerned for you and I can’t seem to get you to talk about it. He makes progress with Romanoff, but I don’t really know what to do. They are even going out for dinner tonight and we haven’t even really talked since then.”

Suddenly, Barton dropped the barbell on the ground and shoved him against the wall. “They are doing what?” he asked in a low whisper that send shivers don Tony’s spine. “Going out for dinner. I think they would make a cute couple.” Just as the words were out, he knew he shouldn’t have said that when a calloused hand choked and pushed him up the wall. “Where?” the Assassin demanded, tightening his grip. “I—c-ca---sh-ow---you.” He managed and gestured to his wrist computer. Barton released him, and he immediately started coughing. “What the fuck, Clint?”

Weight discs and bars began flying through the room in quick succession “He’s not getting my fiancé.” Clint shouted and looked back at him “Send the direction to my bike.” He demanded walking towards the elevator.

A stunned and slightly confused Tony stood in the middle of the training room, staring at the door. He didn’t know they were engaged, hell he didn’t even know they were a thing. Remembering the fierce glint in his team-mat’s eyes, he hurried down to the garage and uploaded the address on Barton’s black Ducati. A moment later, the Archer emerged from the elevator, now dressed in black jeans, a white button down and a leather jacket. “You could have told me.” Tony accused, handing him a helmet “You could have told us.” But Clint was already speeding into the night.

The restaurant wasn’t far away, and he saw them walking towards a park when he arrived, sprinting after them. Rain had set in and Steve held a large umbrella over Natasha. His Natasha. Clint dropped his helmet on the floor carelessly, picking up speed. When he finally reached them, soaked to the bone, he fell on his knees in front of her, bowing his head. “Clint?” Steve asked in confusion, but he ignored the Captain.

“Nat, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t just let you die. Please forgive me.” He begged her holding out a black throwing knife handle, first. “If you can’t forgive me, kill me. I can’t live without you.” She looked at the knife and recognized it as the one he held to her throat all those years ago when he decided to make a different call.

Natasha looked down at the man she loved that was now staring at her with tears in his eyes. The knife still outstretched, he looked her in the eye one last time “I love you Natasha and If love is for children I’m happy I never got to be an adult.” And turned his head to the side, offering his neck to her.

She dropped to her knees in front of him and pushed the knife to the side, hugging him. “I’m so sorry moy yastreb [my hawk]. I shouldn’t have been mad at you for saving me.”

Steve slowly backed up, sensing that they needed a little privacy.

It took a moment before Clint finally relaxed into her embrace. He buried his face in her curls and for the first time in weeks, smelled the mix of gun powder and roses that was so typically her. “I can’t lose you. Without you no one understands.” He whispered and hugged her even tighter. A small smile crept on her face when she turned to look at him. Natasha cupped his face with both of her hands, wiping away both rain and tears before kissing him passionately. “I will always be yours” She promised, showing him the titanium engagement ring he’d given her and that she kept on a chain around her neck.

“Always”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Prompt I recieved over Wattpad. Feel free to send me new I deas or concepts you would like to read!


End file.
